Friday, September 19, 2008

Institutionalised Discrimination

In Sarah Mayberry's Cruise Control there's a secondary romance between the heroine's brother, Danny, and his co-worker, Ben, who enter into a committed relationship. As a result Danny finds the courage to come out to his father and his work colleagues about his sexual orientation:

"I'm twenty-eight. I'm sick of pretending to be something I'm not. Ben and I told the people at work yesterday [...]."Danny's tone was light, but his hands were shaking as he put the lid back on the pot."I think it's great," she said gently. [...] "Dad loves you, Danny. He would never reject you," Anna said. (231)

Danny's not so sure, and here's how he breaks the news to his father:

"You know how all these years you keep asking me when I'm going to settle down with one girl and stop playing the field?"Their father frowned. "Yeah?" Then his face cleared. "Danny - you're not going to tell me you've got some girl pregnant?" he asked.Anna bit her lip. Danny looked anguished."No. I haven't got a girl pregnant. The thing is, Dad. All these years ... I'm not really into girls, if you know what I mean." (237-38)

Danny's father didn't mean to cause his child pain, but he nonetheless causes him "anguish" due to his heterosexist assumptions. Gregory M. Herek writes of heterosexism that,

Like institutional racism and sexism, heterosexism pervades societal customs and institutions. It operates through a dual process of invisibility and attack. Homosexuality usually remains culturally invisible

One could perhaps think of the romance genre as being similar to Danny's father (and sometimes it's been even less caring). Jessica (a romance reader) commented that

I have GLB or T friends who would claim that since 90% or more of the genre upholds the idea that monogamous romantic relations between women and men are the moral norm, it is quite problematic

It's quite obviously the case that the vast majority of romances are about heterosexual couples and, regardless of whether or not individual authors wish to do so or not (and I'm certain that many would be horrified to think this might be the message that others might take from reading their works), they may cumulatively give the impression that "romantic relations between women and men are the moral norm."

So, if authors are inadvertently sending a particular message (and the genre's been accused of perpetuating racism and ageism as well as heterosexism, and no doubt a few other forms of discrimination) with which they don't actually agree, why is this happening?

Maybe it would be helpful to follow Herek by looking more closely at the concept of "institutional racism." Sir William Macpherson's report on the Stephen Lawrence Inquiry was focussed on a discussion of racism within a police force, and it might therefore seem to have little or nothing to do with romance novels. Nonetheless, here is Macpherson's definition:

For the purposes of our Inquiry the concept of institutional racism which we apply consists of:

The collective failure of an organisation to provide an appropriate and professional service to people because of their colour, culture, or ethnic origin. It can be seen or detected in processes, attitudes and behaviour which amount to discrimination through unwitting prejudice, ignorance, thoughtlessness and racist stereotyping which disadvantage minority ethnic people.

It persists because of the failure of the organisation openly and adequately to recognise and address its existence and causes by policy, example and leadership. Without recognition and action to eliminate such racism it can prevail as part of the ethos or culture of the organisation. It is a corrosive disease.

As Dr Oakely points out, the disease cannot be attacked by the organisation involved in isolation.

It seems to me that romance may, at times, have failed to provide the same "service" to all its potential readers. It may often have done so unwittingly but it is clear that some groups have felt excluded by the mainstream of the genre and its portrayal of romantic relationships between predominantly young, white, heterosexual protagonists. Of course, the genre does not exist "in isolation" from society. Its readers and authors form part of society, and few editors would choose to publish a romance which they believe would not attract readers, and would thus fail to make a profit.

I may be overly optimistic, and I'm certainly basing my opinion on a very small sample of the huge total of romances published, but I think over the decades there has been some progress towards ending discrimination in the genre. As Hsu-Ming Teo has observed, "Between 1890 and 1945, an astonishing number of novels were published in Britain dealing with the theme of romance in India or exploring the possibilities and perils of interracial love" and

these novels legitimized British imperialism. Romances naturalized the colonial order by normalizing the Raj as an exotic background to British love, telling the love story in such a way that the local Indian population, which vastly outnumbered the British, was marginalized and written out of its own landscape and history.

In this context I was very interested to read recently that Harlequin Mills & Boon, as part of its expansion into India,

wants to expand its roster of romantic heroes.

"We are also looking at the Indian prince idea. He is a clear extension of the alpha male and we are looking at launching this next year," says Ms Somerville.

It is also running a competition to find new local authors in India.

Penny Jordan has written about "pushing the boundaries" in this direction because her "first ever book set in India, with an Indian hero, is due out in North America." The first chapter of Virgin for the Billionaire's Taking is available here (there are arrows at the top of the page so that you can scroll forwards in the text). Maybe this is the start of a new trend and we'll eventually find Indian heroes written by Indian authors making their presence felt in the Harlequin Presents line. I do wonder whether or not they'd (a) be non-stereotyped depictions and/or (b) whether such heroes would almost always end up paired with white women, much as HP sheiks usually are.

Ebooks seem to be the place where the dominance of heterosexuality seems most likely to be challenged at the moment, but I also wonder if there's been a trend towards including more secondary couples who are not heterosexual (and not merely the "gay best friend") in paper-published romances. The most well-known recent romance of this kind is probably Suzanne Brockmann's Force of Nature (spoilers about the relationship here), but I know there are others, including Jennifer Crusie's Bet Me (2004), Louise Allen's The Dangerous Mr Ryder (2008), Anita Bunkley's Suite Temptation (2008), Ellen Hartman's His Secret Past (2008) and, of course, Sarah Mayberry's Cruise Control (2006) with which I started this post.1

Can you think of other examples? Do you think the depiction of non-heterosexual secondary couples in mainstream romances is a signal that in time they'll one day take centre stage, or do you think they're likely to stay in second place for a long time to come? Does the emergence of an Indian Harlequin Presents hero strike you as an exciting new development, or do you think he's a type that won't differ much from the existing sheiks, Greek tycoons, Spanish aristocrats and Italian billionaires?

1 Crusie includes a lesbian friend of the hero's who finds her own happy ending; Allen (writing a Regency includes a scene in which the hero's sister tells the heroine about their (the hero and his sister's) half-brother, a duke who

does not find women attractive. Not sexually attractive. Do you understand me?'Oh. Yes.' One came across it, of course, although Louis had had to explain it to her. 'But is that not illegal?''Yes. You see how I trust you. [...] Charles has lived, secluded on his Northumberland estate, for eight years, very happily with his lover who, as far as the rest of the world is concerned, is his steward.' (254-55)

Dear Author recently reviewed Anita Bunkley's Suite Temptation and Jane reports that the hero has an employee who is gay and "his live in partner was Todd"; Hartman's heroine has a brother who's already found his "Mr Right." I've not yet read the novels by either Bunkley or Hartman, so it may be that the gay couples don't end the novel as happily as they begin it, but I've not yet read anything in the reviews that indicates this is the case, so I've included them in my list.

55 comments:

I remember a Cheryl Holt novel with a lesbian friend who ends up with the bad guy's sister. Generally, though, her bad guys are marked with sexual differences (into kids, into men and women and then killing them afterwards) and this book has the evil brother determined to see his sister have sex with the butch lesbian friend, and then to rape his own sister. Naturally, he dies in a painful way.

I agree there should be more lesbian and gay secondary characters, and- dare I suggest it- a bisexual hero or heroine? Or, hell, a romance novel with two heroines?

I read Penny Jordan's VIRGIN FOR THE BILLIONAIRE'S TAKING last night -- I couldn't have said what the difference was between the hero (the brother of a maharajah) and the brother of a sheik in any of her other romances.

Also, she only gave his name one time, and it didn't include a family name, but a title -- His Royal Highness Prince Jayesh of Ralapur (p. 64 of the larger print edition) -- and was called "Jay" throughout. He had "olive" skin and light grey eyes.

Aside from several mentions of Bollywood, food and clothing, I would have thought it a sheik romance -- and about as accurate as sheik romances typically are, as well.

there should be more lesbian and gay secondary characters, and- dare I suggest it- a bisexual hero or heroine? Or, hell, a romance novel with two heroines?

I do recall there being a lot of controversy at AAR a while ago when word got out that the hero of an Anne Stuart novel was bisexual. But then Anne Stuart explained that he wasn't: "Peter isn't bisexual. He's heterosexual, but able to perform whatever he's called upon to do, and he has no qualms or squeamishness about having sex with a man if it's part of his undercover role (no pun intended)."

The perception I was left with as a result of reading some of the comments made at the time was that some people thought that bisexual people couldn't be monogamous because they would have to have at least one partner of each sex. Obviously that wouldn't be compatible with the usual monogamous romance HEA (it's usual, as the RWA definition spells out, for a romance to centre around "two individuals"). It seems to be quite a common misperception about bisexuality (it's listed as Myth #5 on this list and is also discussed and refuted here).

I wouldn't want to give the impression that novels about lesbian, gay or bisexual main characters don't exist at all, because they do. It's just that I haven't come across them marketed as mainstream, paper-and-ink romances. A possible exception to that is Ann Herendeen'sPhyllida and the Brotherhood of Philander which was published by Harper Collins (who have a sizeable excerpt available here), so that seems fairly mainstream, although I'm not sure if it was published in the UK (it never seemed to be available new via Amazon.co.uk). The hero's bisexual. As I haven't read it, I don't know how it ends, but it looks as though during some parts at least there isn't a monogamous relationship because the hero has both a wife and a boyfriend.

Incidentally, I have the impression that the usual requirement for monogamy in romances is also being challenged, particularly in ebooks.

Aside from several mentions of Bollywood, food and clothing, I would have thought it a sheik romance -- and about as accurate as sheik romances typically are, as well.

Hmm. I thought that might be the case, though I was hoping maybe there'd be something extra.

He had "olive" skin and light grey eyes.

That's not exactly unproblematic, is it, though given his status I suppose it might be realistic.

Professor of South Asian Studies at York University, Hira Singh, says the ideology of fairer is better was partly promoted by colonialism in the Indian sub-continent. "It didn't originate with colonialism but colonialism did contribute to it," says Professor Singh. Even though the British didn't favour people due to colour, white people being there and dominating - it did make whiteness a privilege, promoting being fairer as better."

But he says this ideology goes back even further to the caste system - which existed 2000 years before India was colonized. The system equates light skin with a more revered caste. Members of the highest caste - Brahmin, who are usually priests - are suppose to be lighter and people of the lowest caste - Shudra or poor labourers - are comparatively darker, says professor Singh.

The caste system isn't alone in promoting the fairer is better ideology; religion has a part in it as well. "Most of the popular Hindu Gods are fair, Ram, his wife Sita, Khrisna and even Shiva - he's samvla - which is like a Mediterranean skin colour," says Professor Singh. (Zafar)

and

Tall, dark and handsome? Make that tall, fair and handsome in India. While savvy brand managers have always cashed in on Indian women’s obsession for lighter skin by peddling a raft of `fairness’ products, they have now zeroed in on a new cache of clients – Indian men. [...]

Indian men are perhaps more susceptible than those in other Asian countries, however, because of the powerful presence of Bollywood, the country’s hyperactive movie industry. Scripts focus on the fair-complexioned hero who walks away with the beautiful damsel in the end, usually by vanquishing a dark-skinned villain or two. (Lal)

It's undeniable that fair skin is preferable in India (one glance through India West's matrimonial ads would convince anyone) so I would expect them to be on the light side of brown (whether written by Indians or a western author). But combined with the statistically improbable light grey eyes (even amber eyes would have been easier to accept), and the lack of a family name, it just becomes an exercise in stripping this so-called Indian hero of his ethnicity. The lack of a family name is actually what stood out for me from the first, before I realized that he was supposed to be Indian -- just because it's very, very unusual for a HP hero not to have one. Yet he was Jay from the first scene, and even his social/business inferiors call him Jay. Perhaps Jordan meant to westernize him in this way (and to prevent western readers from tripping over unfamiliar pronunciation) -- but to me, it only called attention to their refusal to give him even a common name like Singh.

I can understand why she wouldn't want to give the equivalent of, say, Marthanda Varma's honorifics and titles -- but to remove almost every ethnic marker made me extremely uncomfortable. Even HP sheiks get to keep their pseudo-Arabic names.

I tend to think of amber as being the same colour as the middle light on UK traffic lights i.e. a bright orange-ish colour, so it seems implausible to me that anyone would have eyes that shade. Apart from that, the real amber I've seen has been yellow/orange, so again, not a shade I'd associate with anyone's eyes. Maybe I've only ever seen a very limited range of eye colours, or maybe I've only seem a limited range of types of amber.

The lack of a family name is actually what stood out for me from the first, before I realized that he was supposed to be Indian -- just because it's very, very unusual for a HP hero not to have one.

I've got no idea what the protocol is for the younger sons of a Maharaja, so I suspect I wouldn't have noticed that. Do all the princes in the HP line have surnames? I suspect that with princes it might not be so very surprising to find them referred to as Prince X of Y, so in that case the lack of a surname wouldn't be unusual. It's not as though the Queen's surname is often used in the UK, and her children aren't usually referred to by their surname either. Is it possible that Penny Jordan might have omitted Jay's surname because she was thinking of him in that context?

No, not as far as I can remember. I looked up the films she's been in, and I may have seen tiny bits of one of the Lassie films when I visited my grandmother, but I don't remember seeing Taylor. We didn't have a TV when I was growing up, we don't have one now, and I don't much like going to the cinema, so I've really not seen very many films at all.

Amber occurs in quite a wide range of colours from a very pale creamy-yellow, through the 'typical' yellow and golden brown hues, to dark brown, and because it is translucent, the depth of colour is also affected by the size of the specimen. I always think of 'amber eyes' as a light golden brown shade which certainly does exist in human eyes, though it usually goes with brown hair rather than the more dramatic black with which many writers like to pair it!

On a topic more closely related to the orgininal topic, Jayne Ann Krentz, in all her manifestations (JAK contemporaries, Amanda Quick historicals, Jayne Castle 'paranormal/futuristic' romances) is one author who very commonly features stable same-sex couples, male and female, in her casts of characters. They are always well-established couples, but are simply there in a normal, matter-of-fact way. Just as in real life.

Thanks for getting us back to the original topic, Tigress. Incidentally, I would think of tigers as often having amber-coloured eyes.

I did think of mentioning JAK because although I haven't read as many of her novels as you obviously have, I have come across at least one lesbian couple (secondary characters) in one of her novels. Unfortunately I couldn't remember its name or the date of publication, so I decided to leave it out. I thought you and Tal would probably come along and set me right regarding JAK.

I had a gay secondary couple in Skylark, that I see as having a heroic romance story of their own. I don't see homosexual couples as the main couple becoming popular, however, not from prejudice but because it doesn't interest the readers in the same way their own sexuality -- heterosexuality -- does.

I also have a bisexual character in my Malloren books, Sappho, who is admirable. As you say, many people do have trouble with the whole idea of bisexuality.

As a romance reader, I'm not interested in expanding the genre into other things entirely. The development of a committed homosexual relationship fits. Sexual games without eventual commitment doesn't. Group marriages? Fine if, again, committed for life by the end with true harmony among all partners.

Just my line. I know it's debatable.

To me, it's like going to an Impressionist art show and finding the room full of Op Art. Interesting to many, but not at all what I came for, and thus not an expansion of my experience but a bait and switch.

Thanks very much for bringing up the additional examples in your own novels, Jo.

I don't see homosexual couples as the main couple becoming popular, however, not from prejudice but because it doesn't interest the readers in the same way their own sexuality -- heterosexuality -- does.

I sometimes find love scenes which describe the heroine's body in great detail a little bit weird, precisely because I'm heterosexual. I suppose that's because I definitely don't think of myself as the heroine or as taking her place, so instead I'm put in the position of watching her, and I don't find her body attractive. That said, I also found it a bit strange when I read quite a few m/m romance short stories in quick succession, because it made me feel that since their male bodies were so attractive, my female body couldn't be. I've not read of anyone else having a similar response, so I may well be on my own in this.

Group marriages? Fine if, again, committed for life by the end with true harmony among all partners.

Yes, that's the sort of scenario I was thinking of. I'd agree with you that if there isn't a permanent commitment, or at the very least the sort of "optimistic" outcome which strongly suggests one will be forthcoming, then I wouldn't think of it as a romance either.

There are so many of Jayne's books that have a male-male or female-female couple somewhere in the story that I would have to do a serious search to list them all. Even in her Regency historicals (set in a time and place where male homosexuality was regarded as criminal) she depicts some low-key lesbian couples in a very positive way.

One of her fundamental themes is about the importance of family relationships, and the way in which bonded couples can anchor them, and she makes it very clear that true pair-bonds are a power for good whether they are heterosexual or homosexual. This relates closely to the point made by Jo, above - it is the love and commitment that matters to the stability of society, rather than the age, background or sex of any given couple.

In one of Jayne's fantasy worlds (the 'flower' series of three novels, Amaryllis, Zinnia, Orchid) she depicts a society, colonised from earth, in which strict rules and laws are applied to marriage, and most marriages are arranged through professional, highly-skilled matchmakers. Gay marriages are subject to exactly the same rules, and are just as acceptable, as heterosexual ones.

I was under the impression that although Lord John sometimes had romantic/sexual relationships, they didn't tend to last for one reason or another. I'm quite willing to be corrected on that point, since I haven't read them, and since it's an ongoing series maybe if it hasn't happened already it'll happen in the future.

I did a quick Google just to double-check and this review of the latest book in the series (made up of three short stories) included the following paragraph:

The poor man is still fancying just about everything male that breathes, and having a complete lack of success at getting into anyone’s breeches. And I admit that his complete celibacy throughout was a little tedious. Surely it’s about time he had a love interest who didn’t despise or betray him? His continual lack of romantic success is getting me down.

So it doesn't seem as though Lord John has got a romance-style happy relationship so far.

Because I'm looking for romances which would challenge "the idea that [only] monogamous romantic relations between women and men are the moral norm" I've been listing novels in which the gay, lesbian or bisexual characters are also given a HEA in a monogamous romantic relationship. As AgTigress says, that sort of scenario, albeit for secondary characters, serves to demonstrate that

true pair-bonds are a power for good whether they are heterosexual or homosexual. This relates closely to the point made by Jo, above - it is the love and commitment that matters to the stability of society, rather than the age, background or sex of any given couple.

Nora Roberts often has a gay best friend for a protagonist. In the In the Garden trilogy, the oldest heroine's three sons have a lifelong best friend who is gay and who runs her household.

AgTigress said most of what I intended to say about JAK/AQ/JC. Her books often feature ad hoc families put together out of loners coming together--probably the best example is Grand Passion. The heroes often find themselves acting as father figures to nephews or younger brothers. The gay or lesbian couples are just one more variation on this theme. In the recent JAK Sizzle and Burn, the heroine, whose parents are dead and whose aunt, her only other relative, is dysfunctional due to clinical depression, is raised by a gay male couple. At one point, when one of them mentions that she has lost all her family with her aunt's death, she replies, "No, you two are my family."

And there's Michelle Martin's Pembroke Park (1986):

When Lady Joanna Sinclair meets Lady Diana March on horseback and clad in male attire, she is outraged. Such bizarre behavior is simply unacceptable in Herefordshire!

But she is irresistibly drawn to the headstrong Diana, whose eccentricity cloaks a mysterious darkness in her past. And Joanna learns that Diana's coterie of "unusual" friends has among them her own brother-in-law, who is in headlong pursuit of the beautiful and elusive Geoffrey.

Under Diana's influence, falling ever more deeply in love with her, Joanna asserts her independence from her brother, the arrogant and overbearing Hugo, who vows to subdue both of these defiant women. But Hugo is up against more than he bargains for in Lady Diana March .. .

Engaging and erotic, this colorful novel portrays England's regency period when, regardless of wealth or title, to love one's own sex was a risk taken only by the most daring ...

That said, I also found it a bit strange when I read quite a few m/m romance short stories in quick succession, because it made me feel that since their male bodies were so attractive, my female body couldn't be. I've not read of anyone else having a similar response, so I may well be on my own in this.

I've heard that cognitive dissonance described by mature slash fiction fans from time to time, too. I've heard less mature female slash fans say things that indicate that they're feeling that without really thinking about it: once a girl said something about how supremely ugl y the female genitals are compared to the male.

IMO, breasts are some of the happiest places of the body and cunts are sensitive, beautiful things that live only to give their owners and their owner's special friends warm delight.

I must be bi in my reading choices, or identifying with the heroine without admitting it to myself, because a love story without a woman in it l just isn't satisfying to me most of the time. Though, a romance without a guy in it kind of loses something, too, I'd rather give up having a hero than a heroine.

That said, it's het relationships that apparently does it for me. I think that published Romance should have more variety in it, though. I don't have to want to read every subgenre to want people to be able to read a story they'd enjoy about relationships they're interested in/feel closer to.

Stable group marriages of various types -- almost all the ones I can think of were in science fiction contexts and weren't really the focus of the books, but rather just part of the world-building in the background.

The Luck of Brin's Five and its sequels showed a marsupial society in which the normal household pattern was a mating triad (either a woman lead with two men or a male lead with two women -- it was a matter of personality) with an elder and a "luck" who was some kind of societal misfit, plus any minor children.

IIRC, some of Mary Gentle's books depicted societies in which group marriages were the norm, from the fairly easy-to-manage triad, the readjustments necessary to make it into five, and the incredible complexities of managing numbers larger than that. The author, and I'm not certain it was Gentle, dealt with realities: not just sex and jealousy, but that the more people you have in a household, the more food allergies you're cooking to avoid, the laundry becomes a much larger job, etc.

Laura, I was so pleased to see His Secret Past mentioned in your list. As you said, the heroine's brother, Jake, is in a committed relationship with a man named Rob. In fact, the heroine is launched on her journey because Jake is choosing to give up their film production company for more time at home with Rob.

I was a little nervous about how Jake and Rob would be received. The only mention their sexuality has gotten in reader letters and reviews, however, has been positive in the general, "Thanks for showing a gay character in such normal circumstances" kind of way. I had thought there might be a boundary somewhere that I was crossing but having met with exactly zero resistance, I wonder if the boundary wasn't all in my mind.

Thanks, Tal. I doubt I'll ever find myself staring deep into the eyes of either a wolf or a tiger. I certainly hope I won't. But at least if I do I won't be surprised if they're amber.

Thanks for the additions to the list, too.

Nora Roberts often has a gay best friend for a protagonist.

Do these gay friends often have partners/lovers? I certainly wouldn't say that it's bad for novels to include a gay best friend who's single, because it's definitely a step along the road towards greater diversity and it's certainly much, much better than finding gay people mostly cast as ultra-evil villains, but if the gay and lesbian characters who are included are mostly single, whereas the main characters who find true love are heterosexual, it doesn't really do much to challenge the notion that true love/marriage/committed sexual relationships can or should only exist between heterosexual couples. That's why I was so pleased to notice what seemed to me to be increasing numbers of non-heterosexual secondary couples, not just secondary characters.

once a girl said something about how supremely ugly the female genitals are compared to the male.

Hmm. I'd rate them about equal, in that I wouldn't think of either as beautiful. Assessments of what's beautiful can be rather subjective, though, and in any case beauty isn't necessary for something to be very attractive/desirable.

a love story without a woman in it l just isn't satisfying to me most of the time. Though, a romance without a guy in it kind of loses something, too

The gender of the protagonists doesn't seem to matter to me at all in terms of how I relate to the characters' emotions, it's just that some of the very detailed physical descriptions (in both heterosexual and non-heterosexual romances) can have a distancing effect for me, particularly during the sex scenes where sometimes I'd rather be given a bit less detail about all of the parties involved. I was thinking about this today, and I think that sometimes the detail can begin to read to me like a weather report (albeit with overtones of the Weather Girls' It's Raining Men, well, the bits about "Humidity is rising" and "I'm gonna go out to run and let myself get absolutely soaking wet!")

As you say, though: "I don't have to want to read every subgenre [or type of description] to want people to be able to read a story they'd enjoy about relationships they're interested in/feel closer to."

Stable group marriages of various types -- almost all the ones I can think of were in science fiction contexts and weren't really the focus of the books, but rather just part of the world-building in the background.

Yes, I can dimly recall coming across some rather unusual setups in some science fiction novels, but my memory doesn't seem to be as good as yours, Virginia, and I read them so long ago I can't remember any titles, unfortunately.

The author [...] dealt with realities: not just sex and jealousy, but that the more people you have in a household, the more food allergies you're cooking to avoid, the laundry becomes a much larger job, etc.

I imagine it could get complicated, though I suppose if the group got very, very large, there might be economies of scale.

I had thought there might be a boundary somewhere that I was crossing but having met with exactly zero resistance, I wonder if the boundary wasn't all in my mind.

It's lovely to "see" you here Ellen and it's very interesting to know what you were thinking. From what I've read about the history of the genre it does seem as though the genre's had certain boundaries (e.g. non-aristocratic characters, paranormal romance, older heroines, greater sexual explicitness) which authors have gradually pushed further out, allowing for greater diversity within the mainstream. Sometimes, as you suggest, it may be that many authors and readers are ready for a change, but authors/publishers don't know it unless they take a risk and even then it can require a critical mass to build up before what used to thought of as edgy/rule-breaking becomes accepted as part of the mainstream of the genre.

P.S. Jake and Rob stay happy. ;-)

I'm very glad to hear it :-) I'm in the UK, where it hasn't been published (yet) but I've got His Secret Past on my to-be-read list and I've ordered it from the US, though it probably won't arrive for a while.

Hmm, the "this book hasn't been published in the UK" is turning into a bit of a theme in my responses here. It doesn't look as though Michelle Martin's Pembroke Park would be readily available here, and I mentioned that Ann Herendeen's novel hasn't been published here either.

Laura, JAK's heroes often have amber eyes. The heroine usually comments to the effect that she's seen eyes like that before in nature documentaries--usually on the predators at the top of the food chain.

The Roberts gay characters I can think of offhand are single and playing the field, much like a young hetero person of the same age. Elizabeth Lowell has a gay character in a committed relationship in THE COLOR OF DEATH, but he's killed off in the prologue.

In Heinlein's THE MOON IS A HARSH MISTRESS, there are both group marriages and line marriages in the Luna Colony, with elaborate rules for each. And in L. Neil Smith's THEIR MAJESTIES' BUCKETEERS, everything in the world comes in threes, including the sexes. The protagonists, the planet's equivalent of Sherlock Holmes, Irene Adler, and Doctor Watson, wind up married to each other. (The pronoun for the third sex, by the way, is rhe/rher.)

PEMBROKE PARK is available at abebooks.com for as low as $1.69; unfortunately the only UK seller wants $47.17 for it.

Thanks for the mention! Yes, Phyllida and the Brotherhood of Philander has been published in the USA and Canada only (so far).

My idea was to see if I could write the situation of a man with a wife and a boyfriend as a love story--a romance--instead of the tragedy or farce it is usually portrayed as. I felt that honesty and respect were the essential elements, along with love, of course!

I hope Jo Beverley won't mind if I say that she was one of my inspirations, especially her Company of Rogues novels. They struck me as exciting, innovative romances, with unconventional, sexy situations that expanded the parameters of the genre in a wonderful way.

JAK's heroes often have amber eyes. The heroine usually comments to the effect that she's seen eyes like that before in nature documentaries--usually on the predators at the top of the food chain.

I didn't recall that about their eyes (I'm not particularly good at remembering physical descriptions) but I had noticed that she quite often compares her heroes to predators.

PEMBROKE PARK is available at abebooks.com for as low as $1.69; unfortunately the only UK seller wants $47.17 for it.

At that price it would definitely be cheaper to pay postage from the US. But my book-buying budget is far from unlimited, so paying a lot for postage can put me off too. I looked at some of the reviews I could find online, and they were a bit mixed. Joke Hermes wrote an article on lesbian romance ["Sexuality in Lesbian Romance Fiction." Feminist Review 42 (1992): 49-66.] and described Pembroke Park in some detail. Her conclusion, that "I like Pembroke Park in spite of, or maybe because of its outrageous and unlikely plot and because of its ironic and humorous quality which Martin has managed extremely well" (63), is not entirely reassuring to me, given that judgements about humour tend to be very subjective and I'm not particularly keen on "outrageous and unlikely plots." Have you read it yourself?

My idea was to see if I could write the situation of a man with a wife and a boyfriend as a love story--a romance--instead of the tragedy or farce it is usually portrayed as.

It's good to "see" you here, Ann. I'm glad they don't end up in either a farce or a tragedy. I don't tend to like romances that include love triangles, because one person tends to end up being left out and then I feel sorry for them, which takes the shine of the HEA, but it sounds as though you've avoided that situation.

Laura said: "I'm glad they don't end up in either a farce or a tragedy. I don't tend to like romances that include love triangles, because one person tends to end up being left out and then I feel sorry for them, which takes the shine of the HEA, but it sounds as though you've avoided that situation."

Well, I have to admit Phyllida is very much a romantic comedy, but I tried to find an ending that treats both the hero's partners with dignity and respect. I quite agree with you about the problem of triangles, and while I think I gave my threesome a convincingly HEA, I also had the two men discuss the situation honestly with each other. Those readers who are still dubious at the end of the story will at least know that this family is aware of the difficulties and working on keeping the marriage happy.

Laura, if I have time, I'll try to compile a list of JAK novels with gay/lesbian characters. I don't think there are any in her category romances (probably Harlequin/Silhouette rules forbade gay characters even in the background in the 1980s!) so I'll only have to search the last 15 years or so. I'll e-mail you if/when I get together a useful list.

Moving outside the romance genre per se, may I plug the novels of the late Jane Rule again? Jane Rule was, in my view, by far the finest Canadian novelist of the 20th century, but because she was herself lesbian, and in a fairly high-profile way, her books have been ghettoised as 'gay fiction' and are not as well known as they should be outside that readership. While all her stories, as far as I recall, have some gay/lesbian characters, they are about people generally and their interactions, so they all have heterosexual characters too - in fact, they depict that normal, everyday mix of gay and straight that we all know in real life, and that Jayne Ann Krentz tries to reflect in her novels, too. Jane R. was observing it from the gay side, JAK from the hetero side, but both writers had/have an all-embracing non-judgemental interest in how people live and love.

Jane Rule's breakthrough book (published in 1969, I think - haven't got it to hand just now to check) was an overt lesbian romance; The Desert of the Heart. A truly ghastly film was made of it in the 1970s, and is best forgotten. Though not one of her best, that first book is interesting and highly important. Many of her later books seem to me to be literature of lasting quality.

Any comments here from younger readers who are familiar with recent gay/lesbian novels? Does anyone still read Jane Rule? If not, please give her a try!

Wow! Am I late to this discussion. I feel like I ought to amplify my comment (and thanks for quoting it, Laura, although I recognize it was not entirely in approval).

I wonder if having best gay friends or positively portraying gay couples is enough to displace heteronormativity in romance.

I guess it depends on how you define the problem. If the problem is merely that we need positive images of homosexuality in romance, happy gay friends of the h/h may do it (and they are certainly a hell of a lot better than the once typical evil gay character).

But if you want more than "tolerance", if you want to actually get rid of the idea that heterosexuality is a moral norm (and homosexuality is a moral abnorm (!), or at least is less morally preferable) then maybe you need to displace the centrality of the h/h, by featuring more same sex couples at the center.

Sure, heterosexual readers probably prefer to read about heterosexuals. but how is that different from white readers wanting to read about white couples? Is it mere preference, or is there something unsettling about it?

Interestingly, of the authors I have read, JR Ward has done more than anyone to bring the issue of homosexuality and the diverse arrays of sexuality to mainstream white hetero audiences. Participating (well, lurking) in her official boards and the unofficial Ward boards gave me a glimpse into the way books can change people's viewpoints on things like sexuality. You would see women writing in saying "I never wanted to read about men getting it on together, but I fell in love with Vishous and Butch."

Jessica, you ask, 'I wonder if having best gay friends or positively portraying gay couples is enough to displace heteronormativity in romance.'

Why do we need to 'displace heteronormativity'? In all mammals, heterosexuality IS the norm in purely statistical terms, because of the biological imperative of reproduction. In any given human society, there are therefore many more individuals who are sexually attracted to the opposite sex than there are individuals who are sexually attracted to their own sex, or to both (or to items of clothing, animals of other species, pre-pubescent children, and other tastes that even the most liberal might feel dubious about embracing as a norm). They used to quote the figure 85%:15% for straight:gay, but I feel sure that newer research will probably exist, and will almost certainly have increased the latter figure. But even if it were as high as 75%:25%, which I seriously doubt, there is no question as to which is the 'norm'.

I don't see this issue as being about norms at all, but about the validity of certain types of variation. Because human personal relationships are so complex, sex is always only a part of the story. Emotional issues are equally important, and of course, one can have love without sex and sex without love. Homosexuals are a minority, but a significant minority, and crucially, one whose preferences do not in any imaginable way cause any harm to themselves or to other members of society. But they are not a 'norm' in the way that bog-standard heterosexuals are.

Fiction that portrays deeply bonded homosexual couples in a matter-of-fact way as being no less, and no more, a proper component of a stable human society than heterosexual ones seems to me to be making a very significant and positive statement indeed: one that is self-evident to many of us, but still rather revolutionary to some others.

Tigress, I'm sure a detailed list would be of interest if there are readers or academics looking for romances with gay and lesbian secondary characters, but I'm not working in that area myself at the moment (though I think I'll have to follow up some of the recommendations that have been made), so I wouldn't want you to put yourself to great trouble on my behalf. If, however, you wanted to compile a list because it interested you and you felt it might be very useful to some as yet unidentified academic, or to someone who particularly wants to focus on those specific JAK novels, then I certainly wouldn't want to stop you, and I would be interested to know how many of them there are.

thanks for quoting it, Laura, although I recognize it was not entirely in approval

Over on your blog I quibbled with some of what you said in your post and comments, but I'd definitely agree that the net effect of the number of heterosexual versus homosexual main characters in the mainstream of the romance genre could be considered a form of institutionalised (genre-ised?) heterosexism.

If the problem is merely that we need positive images of homosexuality in romance, happy gay friends of the h/h may do it [...] But if [...] you want to actually get rid of the idea that heterosexuality is a moral norm (and homosexuality is a moral abnorm (!), or at least is less morally preferable) then maybe you need to displace the centrality of the h/h, by featuring more same sex couples at the center.

I think there are a few more gradations:

1) No gay or lesbian or bisexual characters, unless they're depicted as evil.2) No gay or lesbian or bisexual characters at all.3) Gay or lesbian or bisexual characters may be present occasionally, but they remain single.4) It is not infrequent for gay, lesbian and bisexual characters to be present and get their own HEA's, albeit as secondary characters.5) Gay, lesbian and bisexual characters are the main characters in many mainstream romances.

Obviously 1) is the most heterosexist. What I was noting in this post was that I thought we might be seeing a shift towards 4) in mainstream, print romances, with epublished romances having reached 5). My feeling is that 4) goes considerably further than 3) in challenging heterosexism, because 4) presents gay/lesbian/bisexual characters in happy sexual relationships. By contrast 3) would still be compatible with a "love the sinner, hate the sin" approach to all non-heterosexual sexuality. Not that it's actually presenting it that way, but it doesn't challenge that view, whereas 4) does.

of the authors I have read, JR Ward has done more than anyone to bring the issue of homosexuality and the diverse arrays of sexuality to mainstream white hetero audiences. [...] You would see women writing in saying "I never wanted to read about men getting it on together, but I fell in love with Vishous and Butch."

Didn't she stop short of including a homosexual relationship in the series, though? I haven't read them myself, but I got the impression that there were plenty of disappointed readers who had wanted to read about Vishous and Butch "getting it on together."

Laura -- yes, Ward improbably made a bisexual male character who had a strong multilayered connection with another male character do an about face and hook up with a female. However, she has introduced gay characters who are likely to take center stage in future books.

AgTigress -- I guess I should clarify that what I mean by hereronormativity is institutionalized heterosexuality, inclusive of our laws, morals, religions, social attitudes, etc. I'll accept that biologically, heterosexuality is the norm, but there are plenty of biological norms that are not institutionalized quite the way heterosexuality is. Right handedness, for example.

The question that some queer theorists ask us to confront is whether we can really have our cake and eat it too: can we really go on asserting that all things being equal, it is better to be straight (and have our laws reflect this, for example, by restricting marriage proper to heteros), while at the same time preventing injustices and prejudice on the basis of sexual minority status?

I am not sure what my answer is, but I think it is a legitimate question to ask -- obviously, or I wouldn't have asked it!

I think your points are very interesting and thought-provoking, Jessica.

You will be aware, I feel sure, that left-handedness was once regarded as a very serious fault, to be ruthlessly 'corrected' in a child. Right-handedness was, in fact, 'institutionalised' in your terms - right was right and left was wrong. This was the case as recently as the 1930s in many societies. It has changed completely. Nobody takes the slightest notice any more, and though left-handers are still in the minority, I should be astonished to hear anyone say that right-handedness is 'better'.

You will also know very well that permanent civil partnership that carry many, though not yet all, of the 'privileges' of marriage are being introduced in some countries, including the UK. The changes that have taken place over the last 40-50 years are IMMENSE. In the 1950s, two men who had a long-term, loving relationship with each other that included a sexual dimension were committing a serious crime. Now, only 50 years later, two men can go to a register office, go through a ceremony very similar to the civil marriage ceremony, and nobody (well, not many people) raises an eyebrow. In terms of social change, that is really, really rapid change! It is undoubtedly moving in the right direction (which is more than one can say of some other socio-political issues).

'...can we really go on asserting that all things being equal, it is better to be straight (and have our laws reflect this, for example, by restricting marriage proper to heteros), while at the same time preventing injustices and prejudice on the basis of sexual minority status?'

ARE we asserting that? I don't think so. To dismantle mores that have existed for literally millennia is no light task, and we are making very good progress.

Most rational people realise that every single one of us belongs to a minority within some system of classification. Simply reversing old wrongs, so that the former underdogs become the new oppressors, is not a particularly useful ambition.

Of course, our much-vaunted systems of democratic government are based on heeding the wishes of the alleged majority in terms of sheer numbers. They are not notably successful in electing people of high intelligence, morality and good will to the highest offices, alas, but as yet, a better system has not been devised.

In point of fact, minority or majority really does not matter two hoots. What matters is open-mindedness and tolerance. I am glad that gay men no longer live under the appalling shadow that used to ruin their lives (gay women were able to get away with things more easily, but only because ALL women were considered secondary). I would not, however, wish to live in a society in which homosexuality was lauded and approved and heterosexuality criminalised and oppressed. That is merely replacing one wrong with its mirror-image.

I have seen the changes in the attitudes of my society towards gay men and women in my own lifetime, and I have heard tales from much older gay friends that have made me weep - with sorrow, and with joy, for the suffering of the past and the hope of the future. But we cannot expect a total revolution of attitudes in a handful of decades. We are doing well, slowly but surely, on that front.

We should be far more frightened about the anti-scientific, religious-fundamentalist attitudes that are emerging in some erstwhile enlightened societies.

Oh, I wasn't suggesting oppressing anyone, reversing things so that heteros are an oppressed minority.

It's funny, one of the points that queer theorists have made is that the current structure of sexuality is set up in terms of binary oppositions that only allow this kind of reversal. For that reason, some suggest resisting identity politics altogether -- just getting rid of the categories we use altogether. Of course, this requires a belief in the social construction, not just of gender, but sexuality itself.

But I am a pragmatist and, like you, am grateful for the changes I have seen in my lifetime -- in romance, and every place else.

I wonder if some authors, like JAK, who present gay/lesbian characters and couples with no negative implications, do not make them central characters in part because they don't feel competent to write authentically about their experiences, as some writers don't have black protagonists because they are convinced that the black experience is unique and cannot possibly be conveyed by a white writer--something that black studies types have been preaching for about half a century?

One of the tricky aspects of institutionalized discrimination is that it's often more about implicit messages than explicit hate. It's easy to demonstrate that there's a problem when someone uses blatant hate speech; more difficult when well-meaning people make assumptions or the offense is an oversight rather than conscious exclusion. It can also be more difficult to complain when the offender is well-intentioned: the *complainer* is then the troublemaker.

The perception I was left with... was that some people thought that bisexual people couldn't be monogamous because they would have to have at least one partner of each sex.

Yes, I recently saw an author post that she was trying to write an authentic bisexual romance--which meant she'd configured her novel with a HEA for three.

I must be bi in my reading choices, or identifying with the heroine without admitting it to myself, because a love story without a woman in it just isn't satisfying to me most of the time.

I thought about those issues while reading Phyllida and the Brotherhood of Philander, because I have trouble believing in Andrew and Phyllida's relationship. Even though the story is told from her point of view, it seems to me that all the deepest emotion is between the two men. Phyllida is a necessary and surprisingly lovable side-affair, but not a partner. Which is fine: it need not be a marriage of true love and deep passion. But I think it's meant to be read as a more equal relationship and I'm just not seeing it. I'm convinced there are differences in the writing of the Andrew/Phyllida and Andrew/Matthew scenes. It's also possible I'm making some judgments I'm not aware of. (I don't have trouble believing in stable, equal menages in some Ellora's Cave romances, oddly enough--that is, oddly given the rather histrionic sexualization of the relationships I'm thinking of.)

However, I think Phyllida does accomplish what Laura's looking for:

I'm looking for romances which would challenge "the idea that [only] monogamous romantic relations between women and men are the moral norm"

I'm sure you've found the AARtopics and the RT list of bisexual heroes. Most of them seem to be from Ellora's Cave, but there's at least one Signet on the AAR list.

I've noticed lately that bisexuality (or at least experimentation) seems to crop up more frequently in confessional essays than in romance fiction. I'm not sure what that says about the genre, or the demographics or beliefs of those writing romance versus essays.

I just watched the season premiere of BOSTON LEGAL, and I thought once again that the relationship between Alan Shore (James Spader) and Denny Crane (William Shatner) is a perfect love affair--except it's not at all sexual.

No, of course I didn't think you were! But the danger is worth mentioning, because reform to an existing inequality or oppression has a regrettable tendency to move in just that direction if not rather carefully monitored.

Humans have a strong innate tendency to think in terms of polarised opposites, not just in sexual matters - it is much more extensive than that; good and evil, dark and light, young and old; such phrases are very common in human language. Groups that have suffered oppression in the past have a very natural urge to take revenge, and I hardly need point out that that motivation, conscious or subconscious, has appeared on occasion at the fringes of both the feminist and Black movements. Pyschologically, there is far less emotional satisfaction to be gained from achieving a balanced position where everyone is treated with fairness and respect than from the one where the erstwhile oppressors get a taste of their own medicine, and learn just what it feels like!

Heterosexuals would never be an oppressed minority, of course, but human society is perfectly well able to oppress majorities, and has long experience of doing so.

I can point, very easily, to a culture in which our apparently 'fundamental' distinction between hetero- and homosexuality was vanishingly unimportant: the Graeco-Roman world. The idea of distinguishing at a primary level between opposite-sex and same-sex attraction was simply of little interest. But this tolerance towards gender choices was replaced by a different form of polarisation, one that we would find equally unacceptable, namely, the balance of power in a sexual relationship.

Participants in a sexual act were always seen as either the do-er or the done-to, and the latter was always regarded as inferior to the former, and little attention was paid to whether he/she was a willing partner or not. An adult citizen male might demand sex of a woman, a boy, a slave (either sex) or another adult male; the three first classes were his social inferiors anyway, so that was fine, in the prevalent mode of thinking: he had a right to take sex where he wanted it. The last situation was more fraught with social difficulties, because a man of hitherto equal social status became déclassé if he agreed to be a catamite. True adult gay relationships based on affection were kept rather quiet, and anyway, all men of higher social status had a duty to raise chidlren. The point is that at that time and place, the concept of sex as an equal partnership, in which both participants had similar status, was unfamiliar. We have, in fact, made some progress away from that instinctive, binary thinking.

Rfp, the idea that bisexuals always need two partners, one of each sex, is reminiscent of an idea about homosexuals that used to be very common in the old, paranoid days. Some people used to imagine that it was 'not safe' for a 'normal' heterosexual man to associate with gay men (or a straight woman with lesbians), because these homosexual individuals had nefarious and unspeakable designs on EVERYBODY of their own sex! It never seemed to occur to them that they, themselves, did not lust after everybody of the opposite sex!

On the issue of bisexuality being mentioned a lot in 'confessional essays': I should say that a very large minority, if not a majority, of people have had some vague thoughts of a bisexual nature at some time in their lives, usually in adolescence, when sexual development is rapid, changeable and very obtrusive. Like many of my nationality and generation, I attended a single-sex secondary school, and even many of us who turned out to be mostly hetero in the long run tended to have at least some experience of strong attraction to members of our own sex.

Bi- and homosexual fantasies can be as exciting to individuals who would never act upon them in real life as to those who would, and do; rather on the same principle as other common 'dangerous' fantasies, e.g. the 'sex-in-a-public-place' or the 'sex-with-a-complete-stranger' scenarios.

Some people used to imagine that... these homosexual individuals had nefarious and unspeakable designs on EVERYBODY of their own sex!

I've seen faint echoes of that attitude even today.

Sometime in the '90s I read an article on the rarity of long-term committed relationships in the gay community. I don't recall whether the article was based on any fact, or did any thoughtful analysis. I do remember thinking that marriage, joint property, and kids are sometimes why a heterosexual couple hangs on, so it's not a fair comparison. Regardless, I wouldn't be surprised if the "gay = promiscuous" attitude you describe is part of the reason some people are uneasy about gay marriage.

I should say that a very large minority, if not a majority, of people have had some vague thoughts of a bisexual nature at some time in their lives.... Bi- and homosexual fantasies can be as exciting to individuals who would never act upon them in real life as to those who would, and do

Doesn't that make it all the stranger that those fantasies don't turn up more often in romance? Especially as so many claim the genre is all fantasy.

Chiming in late here, for those readers looking for "paper and ink" romances that go beyond the traditional romance boundaries check out Kate Pearce's novels from Kensington Aphrodisia. She's a gorgeous, emotive writer and her next book is due out in November.

Jane, could you give us a bit more detail about which of Kate Pearce's "paper and ink" books "go beyond the traditional romance boundaries" in the way we're discussing here? I couldn't find the Kensington Aphrodisa titles listed on her website, and a quick look at the short description available elsewhere for one of them them seemed to be describing a m/f erotic romance.

"Sometime in the '90s I read an article on the rarity of long-term committed relationships in the gay community."

Hah! Most of the gay couples (both men and women) whom I know are middle-aged or older, and have been together upwards of 25 years. When Civil Partnerships were made legal here nearly 4 years ago (I think it was the end of 2004), there were many newspaper items, not only on 'celebrity' couples, but on ordinary citizens who were amongst the first to register their partnerships formally; practically all of them were long-established couples - and that applied to the men as well as the women.

Most of the gay couples (both men and women) whom I know are middle-aged or older, and have been together upwards of 25 years.

The lesbian couples in my circle have been among the earliest of my friends to settle down. I have to say, though, I prefer to rely on formal studies rather than personal anecdotes. Fortunately, these days there *are* more studies. Some studies do find differences in the stability of hetero- vs homosexual relationships, so that may be what that half-remembered article drew on. But there are now studies finding the opposite; overall, the data are more nuanced these days.

When Civil Partnerships were made legal here... there were many newspaper items... on ordinary citizens who were amongst the first to register their partnerships formally; practically all of them were long-established couples - and that applied to the men as well as the women.

There were lovely stories like that when California legalized gay marriage last spring. There was also a spate of earlier articles (just after San Francisco legalized gay marriage in 2004) referencing studies finding high success rates for gay marriage-like relationships. Surely all this publicity must help combat those old anti-gay myths.

"I have to say, though, I prefer to rely on formal studies rather than personal anecdotes."

Yes, of course you are absolutely right. I am sure that reliable statistics will gradually become easier to obtain - they are unlikely to have been very reliable in the days when so many gay people were obliged to be secretive about the nature of their relationships.

I'd venture a rough guess that about 80% of my books feature either a cross-cultural, cross-economic (and I don't mean secretary-tycoon, though I certainly love those, too), and other crossing sorts of storylines. Not, usually, as the main conflict, since I those are superficial explorations, IMO. I've also written prominent gay characters, most notably (and one of the most beloved of all the characters I've ever written), the heroine's best friend, Michael, in No Place Like Home. He is a central motivating force. His story does not end happily, as he has AIDS, but he shared a happy relationship with his partner. (Part of the point of writing the book was to give tribute to AIDS victims.) In my upcoming book for Bantam, The Lost Recipe for Happiness (w/a Barbara O'Neal), the secondary love story is a very traditional love story between two men, one in desperate need of redemption.

And nearly every one of my books has featured non-mainstream characters, often in the lead. A Mexican immigrant in Rio Grande Wedding (I know, I know, terrible title, and an even worse cover, but it was a solid exploration of the problems); a British/Indian immigrant to America as the romantic interest in Madame Mirabou's School of Love (in which the heroine has a mixed-race daughter, as well); many cross-cultural relationships in In the Midnight Rain; and lots and lots and lots of Hispanic and Native American characters in many books. I grew up cheek to jowl with Hispanic and Native American influences in Colorado, was married for 18 years to an African American, and now live with a British partner. My work is multicultural because my life is. I am interested in cross-cultural histories, and romances are a great place to follow those threads.

I'm citing so many because I never encountered much resistance to these storylines, either from readers or publishers. Maybe that "differentness" has sometimes kept me from making lists or whatever, but I doubt it. If writers want to wade into these waters (which do, after all, offer so many intriguing possibilities and richness!), I believe the field is wide open.

I haven't read through all the comments yet, but you may be aware that m/m romances are extremely popular in Japanese (and possibly other) comics written by and for women. Many female fans prefer them to heterosexual stories. There are several theories as to why; I don't have any personal insight because I don't read them.

In any case, it's a major segment of the comics industry in Japan (when separated into boys (shounen), girls (shoujo), adult male (seinen), adult female (ladies), and m/m (yaoi)). In fact, my uneducated guess would be that it's a bigger segment than ladies.

Thanks, Barbara. Maybe it takes a while for changes like these to gather momentum, and they start with a few people discovering that there isn't "much resistance to these storylines, either from readers or publishers" and then gradually others follow in increasing numbers. I hope so, and I think it might be a pattern that emerges from the examples that have been given here.

lijakaca, I'd forgotten about yaoi when I posted this, so thanks for reminding me. It's been mentioned other times that m/m romance has been discussed here, but I'm probably more likely to forget about it because I don't read it. It got me thinking about other popular culture phenomena that I might have missed. I don't watch TV, but I know there's a bisexual hero (Captain Jack) in Torchwood, and Russell T. Davies was also the writer of Queer as Folks (at least in the UK version).

rfp said:"while reading Phyllida and the Brotherhood of Philander ... I have trouble believing in Andrew and Phyllida's relationship. Even though the story is told from her point of view, it seems to me that all the deepest emotion is between the two men. Phyllida is a necessary and surprisingly lovable side-affair, but not a partner ... I think it's meant to be read as a more equal relationship and I'm just not seeing it. I'm convinced there are differences in the writing of the Andrew/Phyllida and Andrew/Matthew scenes."

Well, that is fascinating to me, and surprisingly good to "hear." That is, most reactions I have had to the story are from people who feel that the Andrew/Phyllida relationship is portrayed as the more "important" or deeper one.

But in writing the story, I very much felt that Andrew was primarily same-sex oriented, and that his relationship with Matthew was more natural for him. Matthew is his "true love" as I imagine most of us think of that concept. Falling in love with Phyllida, his wife of "convenience," is an aberration for Andrew. The reason I had Andrew meet Matthew so late in the story (more than halfway through) is that I felt he would never have decided to make the "ultimate sacrifice" of marriage to a woman if he had already found his perfect male partner.

So, rfp, I think your feelings about the story are very perceptive. I did write the Andrew/Matthew scenes differently from the Andrew/Phyllida scenes. Because this was my first book and my first attempt to write a "bisexual" triangle love story as a mainstream romance, I was working intuitively (which is probably not a great idea, but the only way I could do it)--and this is how it "felt" to me. Andrew and Matthew fall in love at first sight; Andrew's love for Phyllida is an ongoing process of evolution.

Thank you so much for your comments. Even though I realize you weren't addrressing me directly, it is most helpful to me to get this kind of feedback.

Also, on the thread of the misconception that bisexual people will always want a partner of each sex: Phyllida was never intended as a portrayal of a "typical" bisexual love triangle--I doubt there is such a thing. This story was meant only to show what seemed right for these particular characters.

"I very much felt that Andrew was primarily same-sex oriented, and that his relationship with Matthew was more natural for him. Matthew is his "true love" as I imagine most of us think of that concept."

I'm glad to hear I wasn't being closed-minded.

"most reactions I have had to the story are from people who feel that the Andrew/Phyllida relationship is portrayed as the more "important" or deeper one."

Perhaps you wrote a very convincing m/f relationship and I didn't get it :) A couple other possibilities, though: I think readers often get attached to the first relationship to be introduced in the story. I also wonder whether Phyllida gets a more "mainstream" romance readership than, say, an Ellora's Cave ménage à trois.

I'm arriving a little late to the discussion, but I thought I'd put in my two cents anyway :)

I just wanted to point out that there are in fact quite a number of lesbian romances -- it's just that they are usually published by lesbian and women's presses (such as Bella Books) and not by big 'mainstream' publishers. I'd speculate, but it's a little too late in the evening for me to start thinking academically...